Sherlockian Poetry
by KaizokuShojo
Summary: Canon-based poems about the stories and adventures of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and John H. Watson. Rating for possible ILUS poem later. Updated as ideas strike me.
1. Two hundred and Twenty one, B

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

**KS: I was bored, and started to write some Sherlockian poetry. I've never been a poet, but I decided to share it anyways. Each chapter will have one poem. Enjoy. :D**

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Sherlock Holmes, which I don't, I wouldn't just be writing fanfics about it. And I wouldn't have had to pay for my Granada series DVD set.

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"_**Two-Hundred and Twenty-one, B**__**"**_

Yellow fog rolls down the street,

oily and thick on the panes.

Step up to the door and ring!

Ascend the seventeen steps,

all the way to the sitting-room.

"_Do come in, pray take a seat."_

The room is an odour of tobacco and chemistry;

bullet-pocks on the wall speak a singular history.

The gasogene's in the corner, tobacco's in the slipper,

mail's on the mantelpiece.

A violin rests on the floor beside

an occupied armchair, velvet-lined.

Two occupants sit with interest and curiosity,

One an ascetic, the other athletic,

"_Now, tell us your story, and omit no detail."_

Truly, you are in 221B.

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_Thank you for reading, and don't forget to review!_


	2. Reichenbach

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KS: Here's the second poem, obviously based on the final events of FINA. Enjoy.

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"**_Reichenbach"_ **

The waters surge over and downward,

crashing onto the rocks below.

The ground is soft and wet;

A slip is to tumble into the roaring abyss.

There is a feeling of beauty and of dread,

Of the wonderful and the terrible.

A letter comes, a friend goes.

Two spare figures meet,

Words are exchanged.

The clash begins.

Good vs. Evil,

A duel to the death.

Grappling, struggling, never to give in.

A dive, a twist, a slip,

Clawing at air, a cry!

One goes over

Into the roaring abyss.

But what, pray, became of the other?

The victor, the hero, our champion?

Desperate searching, a muddied path,

But all that remains

Is an alpine stock

And a silver cigarette case.

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_Thanks for reading; don't forget to review!_


	3. Not About to

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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**KS: Chapter the third. Based on Holmes's singular habits during an intense investigation. Enjoy. :D**

**_DISCLAIMER: I don't own any right to Sherlock Holmes or the affiliated characters, etc._**

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"_**Not About to**__**"**_

On a case,

Not about to eat.

On a case,

Not about to sleep.

On a case,

Not about to lose sight.

On a case,

Not about to let an innocent man go to gaol.

On a case,

Not about to let a man get away with murder.

On a case,

Hand me over my violin.

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**KS: This one, when I BEGAN writing it, was actually quite good. But I was interrupted, and I lost everything that was in my mind for it, so I'm unhappy with the results as you see them. But I hope you like it, anyways.**


	4. Lazy Afternoon

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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**KS: Here's the fourth Sherlockian poem. The inspiration is from a description toward the beginning of MUSG. I'm sure everone will understand it. :D**

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters, ideas, etc.**_

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**"Lazy Afternoon"**

The violin lies next to me,

I've played it for an hour.

The papers are all crumpled on the floor,

They were a most unforgivable bore.

I've smoked all I want to smoke,

I've slept all I can sleep.

I'm not nearly hungry,

And Watson's gone out for a walk until three.

My Bunsen burner's all burned out,

My phials are chemicals without.

Dear me! What a dreadful thing boredom is!

And my, that wall is barren,

And here is my revolver!

A little practice would be of use,

And a little patriotism is what this room needs.

I do wonder what Watson will think,

But I'm quite curious.

How many cartridges will it take?

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**KS: I hope you liked it! I decided not to include the cocaine, since I wanted it to be more light-hearted. I might do a poem strictly about that later, anyways. **

**I know...some of this poem rhymed, and some of it didn't. I've never done much poetry before. XD**


	5. Christmas Blue

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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**KS: Here's the fifth Sherlockian poem. The inspiration is from BLUE.**

**Sherlock's speech is in BOLD, Watson's is in normal type, and anyone else is in itallics. Any good Sherlockian should be able to tell who is who, anyhow, but I can't format this here at properly, so I thought I'd do **_**something**_**. It's the entire story, but condensed and put to a bit of an offbeat verse. XD**

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters, ideas, etc.**_

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_"__**Christmas Blue**__**"**_

"Well-wishes for the season!

What is the story of that hat?

A murder, or a mystery?"

**"No no, nothing quite like that.**

**Just an old man,**

**Who lost his hat,**

**And a Christmas goose, quite fat."**

_"Mr. Holmes! The goose! My word!"_

**"What, did it fly away?"**

_"No, even more outré!_

_Look and see!"_

"By Jove! The robbery!"

**"The Blue Carbuncle."**

"And again we're off, my dear old chap!

Lead the way, get your coat, and I'll get your hat!

To solve this great

Yuletide mystery,

My friend, it's just you and me!"

**"We return the hat to little avail,**

**A trip to the public house is just as well,**

**We learn what we need, and follow the chain,**

**My dear friend, faces to the south,**

**Quick march! We're off again!"**

"Off to the poultry dealer, Breckinridge by name,

But at the mention of the bird, my! what a flame!

Temper, temper! We mean no sly game!

We just want to know where you got the fowl,

by name!"

**"We'll draw him out, my friend dear.**

**Sir! Will you have a bet?**

**A sovereign!**

**It's clear!**

**Country or city fowl! **

**I take my pick!**

**I say it's country!**

**You say it's city!**

**Oh, dear!**

**I was wrong.**

**Mrs. Oakshott, of 117 Brixton Road!**

**Here's your sovereign.**

**Watson, let's be off!"**

"Who's that rat-faced chap,

At the poultry dealer just quitted?

He speaks for the supplier of

The geese we've just inquired of!"

_"Where did you send them, _

_I must know!_

_A bar-tailed one,_

_Oh please sir, _

_Where did they go?"_

"Breckinridge has sent him off!"

**"This saves us a trip.**

**Sir! We have all you need to know,**

**For I am Sherlock Holmes,**

**And it is my business to do so."**

_"Oh, sir, you I've longed to meet!"_

**"Perhaps we should do business**

**Somewhere else than this street."**

"Returned to our rooms,

Warm by the fire."

_"Now, about the geese,_

_After which I've inquired?"_

**"It came here, **

**The goose with the barred tail.**

**It was a remarkable bird,**

**As I'm sure you've heard,**

**'Twas no wonder you searched,**

**It left the bonniest little blue behind,**

**I was quite surprised at the find.**

**Here is the stone,**

**The game is up!"**

_"Oh, sir, I'll never go wrong again!_

_I'll swear it on the Bible, _

_Just don't turn me in!_

_Think of my father,_

_Think of my mother!_

_I'll fly the country, I swear I will!"_

**"Get a hold of yourself, man!**

**You've made your wrong**

**With little enough thought**

**For the man you had framed!**

**Get up, stop begging at my feet!**

**No more words! **

**Get out, with all speed!"**

_"God bless you, sir!"_

"My friend, what about the case?"

**"It must break down.**

**That man will not testify.**

**To do so would place his own neck on the line.**

**A felony I am commuting, **

**But a soul I am saving.**

**Send him to gaol now**

**And he'll be a gaol-bird for life."**

"Seasons' greetings, well-wishes,

Merry Christmas, my friend!

It turns out that hat meant more than you thought in the end!

The case is done, justice has won,

Peace be on the Earth,

And good will toward everyone!"

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_Thanks for reading; don't forget to review!_


	6. Sleuth Hound

**Sherlockian Poetry**

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_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Sherlock Holmes, the ideas, or the characters. I think most of it's free domain now, but the honour of creatorship is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's. **_

**KS: Welcome to the next poem in my series! I'm very glad you're enjoying them so far. The basis for this one is a description that Watson often used for Holmes.**

**Enjoy. :D**

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_**"**__**Sleuth Hound**__**"**_

Nostrils flare.

Lips tighten.

Sinewy muscles tense,

ready to spring.

Face flushes with passion,

Steely eyes dart about,

seeing all.

Scents cannot escape.

Sounds do not go unheard.

Every fibre of flesh screams for action,

Every neuron is set to fire.

There has never been anyone like him,

None have come since.

Criminals may try to flee,

But once the dreamer is gone and the sleuth-hound emerges,

There is no escape.

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**KS: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! And if you have any ideas or suggestions for a poem, don't hesitate to PM me and let me know! I'll try my best, and I'll let you know if I can't do it. xD I know a few of you liked the poem based on BLUE, so if you have any ideas for other stories you want a poem based on, let me know. **


	7. Empty part I

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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**KS: This Sherlockian Poem was made at request for KCS. It's based on the first part of EMPT. Now, I decided that it would be best to **_**split**_** the story in half and do **_**two**_** poems on it--I think I made the right decision. The next part will come soon after this. I tried to do something really memorable with both of them, so I hope you like it:D**

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters, ideas, etc. Creatorship lies with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

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_**"**__**Return**__**"**_

All alone in this world,

No friend,

No wife,

No love.

Alone.

My heart rends,

Time and time again,

But they say,

Eventually,

It shall mend.

I look through these papers

Of mystery and capers,

Of adventures long gone by.

I miss those days,

And all their ways,

Those days, _auld lang syne._

How I wish you were here,

My friend!

I see these horrible crimes,

And how Scotland Yard's been left behind,

And how only you could untangle

These twisted skeins!

But alas, you are gone,

And the thought, my heart pains.

As I read old letters,

The maid enters,

With the old bookseller.

His face framed in hair of white,

He looks at me, peering,

His voice, he is clearing.

Since I helped him,

And he is grateful.

Would I want a book or two

To prove his feelings unhateful?

The shelf, says he,

Looks rather empty.

I look to inspect

Said vacancy,

But when I turn,

Whom do I see?

It is...

you,

My Friend,

Returned again.

_He's alive._

Lord, take not this soul from before mine eyes!

He's alive!

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**KS: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! Remember, the next chapter will be directly related to this!**


	8. Empty part II

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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**KS: The next Sherlockian Poem was made at request for KCS. It's based on the second part of EMPT. Now, I decided that it would be best to **_**split**_** the story in half and do **_**two**_** poems on it--I think I made the right decision. This is the second part. I really tried to do something memorable with both of them, so I hope you like it! They're both rather long, so in the future I'll do a shorter one for EMPT--I couldn't help but do these long ones first: I have to write whatever comes to my head, or else it doesn't sound right. XD**

**Also, I realised that I put "_Return_" as the title of the last (not in the chapter selection part, but as the heading). The title isn't that, but "_Empty, Part I_". I want to do a poem later titled "_Return_", but I'm too lazy to go back and change it, so I tell you here. xD**

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters, ideas, etc. Creatorship lies with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

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_**"**__**To Trap a Tiger**__**"**_

My friend, my friend!

Off we are again!

Guide me,

I'm at your disposal

In this brand-new mystery!

You I am overjoyed to see,

And I know

You feel the same of me!

It's been so long,

but it feels so right,

You lead the way,

I'm here by your side!

I have my revolver,

Just as you dictated.

I can hardly fathom

What crime you've anticipated!

Lead on through the backstreets,

Through stables and mews,

Into the empty house,

Which you have chosen to use!

It is dark, it is dusty,

The air foul and musty.

Through the window you point,

To the house opposite this,

But, something seems amiss!

My friend, you are there--and you are here!

A wax dummy! The likeness is clear!

But what are we doing here?

And what is it doing there?

But, I think I see:

You are still hunted, and that bait is the key!

Wait patiently, you say,

Like the hunter by the water,

We stalk our deadly game.

You've stiffened,

Whatever is the matter?

Alert, keen, your head whips around.

You snatch me into the darkness.

I hear the steps your sharper senses already discerned,

A figure enters--our suspicions affirmed

The man stalks over to the window,

Bending low,

He raises his cane,

He twists, he places, he locks,

It is...not the same! Now a gun!

He aims,

Careful, precise.

He looks once, twice, thrice,

He fires!

At the sound of the shattered glass

You leap with a roar,

Onto the villain's back,

Knocking him flat onto the floor.

Wrestling, grappling!

A death match!

Up again,

His hands round your throat!

I rush to your aid,

As I hear you choke!

Onto his head I do slam my revolver,

Onto him I now fall,

Holding him down just a little longer,

You whistle,

and the police come at your call!

See, you say, there was no trouble in it at all.

You take no credit for the capture of this murderer,

You take away his air gun, made by the blind Von Herder.

The police have the tiger

While you laid the trap.

But you want no credit,

You're just happy to be

Back in our old rooms again, my friend!

Your loneliness and mine is at an end!

Adventures, come! Let them begin!

Now that I am with my friend!

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**KS: There it is! Both of the main parts of EMPT put into poetic form! I hope it's like what you wanted, KCS. If not, well, like I said, I'm likely going to do a few more at some point for this story, because it has so many poetic possibilities, so maybe it'll turn out right then. xD**


	9. To Smoke

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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**KS: Here's the next Sherlockian poem! The inspiration is from a little conversation in REDH, which I'm sure everyone here will remember. The other requested**** poems will come soon. Enjoy!**

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters, ideas, etc. Creatorship lies with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

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_**"**__**To Smoke**__**"**_

What am I going to do?

To smoke.

It is quite a three pipe problem,

And I beg that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes.

To smoke.

Curled up in the chair,

Thin knees drawn up

To a hawk-like nose.

Eyes closed.

Blue wreaths of smoke

Rise into the air.

_What happened?_

Mind races.

_People involved?_

From the pipe is another blast of nicotine.

_To what purpose?_

Neurons fire.

_Alternatives?_

Possibilities connect.

_What is against it?_

Another surge of smoke.

Exhale.

Curling to the ceiling,

The smoke rises.

Sprung from the chair,

Decision is made.

Set down the pipe.

Come! To the music hall!

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**KS: Must I say it? Yes, I must. Don't go out and smoke, kiddies, it'll kill you. I know this for a fact--I know many personally to die from it. Don't forget dear Jeremy Brett, who worsened his heart condition with it!**

**I didn't much like this one, but here it is. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.**


	10. Violin

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters or ideas. Creatorship belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

**KS: Welcome to the next piece of Sherlockian Poetry! I did this one during Psychology class. xD**

**It is in Holmes's voice, and he is declaring his love for the violin…hey, he can be poetic. Remember the rose soliloquy? XD**

**Please enjoy!**

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"_**Violin**_**"**

Beauty, grace, and form so lovely,

O how I adore!

Every sound, every note!

Violin!

How you enchant me!

I caress the neck

As my fingers dance upon the strings.

Sweet melody!

The bow glides,

Guided by strong arm,

The sound, my soul!

Violin!

You are joy in my joy!

Fury in my anger!

Tears in my sorrow!

Light in my hope!

My love, aid my thoughts,

Calming my mind,

Bringing peace to my spirit,

Purify

Oh depth of beauty,

Glory of the sound,

How I adore!

Violin!

Take me away,

As here, I play.

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**KS: Yes, yes, yes, as a wholehearted lover of violins, this is probably my favourite so far. It's at least in the top three, even if it isn't first, which I think it is. xD**


	11. Grievances

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters or ideas. Creatorship belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

**KS: Welcome to the next piece of Sherlockian Poetry! This one is in Watson's voice, and this is his lament for his wife and Holmes.**

**Enjoy.**

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O, Death,

Spare me this pain!

O, Heaven, take me away!

How can I greet another day

Without my darling love?

This world now holds nothing for me,

My friend, for justice, gone so long ago.

Now cruel fate, my mate, my soul,

Has taken.

Long do I wish that I could find

Some semblance of peace of mind,

But my thoughts ever do return

To those faces long ago burned

Deep in my memory.

How I long for ever to see,

You, my friend.

And you, my love.

Holmes.

Mary.

Please, come back to me.

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**KS: Please, don't forget to review!**


	12. Watson

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters or ideas. Creatorship belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

**KS: Welcome to the next piece of Sherlockian Poetry! This one is in Holmes's voice, and is a small thing dedicated to Watson.**

**Enjoy.**

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Staunch and tried,

Faithful and true,

Always by my side,

My Boswell,

Are you.

Never failing,

You're at my call

Through it all.

Revolver in hand,

You're the very man

To accompany me.

Your word is solid,

Your will never wavering.

You understand me

And I you.

My Boswell,

Staunch, tried,

Faithful and true,

That,

My friend,

Is you.

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**KS: Review, please! I'll get to the other requested poems, I assure you, I just want to make sure they're good!**


	13. The Hound

_**Sherlockian Poetry**_

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_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters or ideas. Creatorship belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

**KS: Welcome to the next piece of Sherlockian Poetry! This one is about the Hound of the Baskervilles itself—not the story just yet. That will come soon enough. :)**

**Enjoy.**

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"**The Hound"**

Bounding through the night,

Silent on the moor.

On the victim's scent,

Never to relent.

Unseen until it's too late,

This "legend" will decide your fate.

Eyes ablaze,

Mouth dripping fire from hell.

Run fast to live to tell

Of the ghostly howls that pierce the night,

Or you will die of more than fright.

I counsel you well

Do not go out upon the moor in those dark hours

When the powers of evil are exalted.

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**KS: Don't forget to review! **


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